Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Quid Pro Quo

~~~~HP~~~~

Hi Harry,

It's me, Dudley, but I'm guessing you knew that already because you probably don't get too much muggle (I can't believe I can use that word so casually now) post. I hope it's ok that I'm writing to you since Professor Snape gave me his address before the end of the school year… I have a feeling he's the kind of person who doesn't tell that information to just anyone, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, how are you doing? We didn't really get a chance to talk too much since you were rescued. At first, I told myself you were still recovering from everything and that the end of year exams for Professor Burbage kept me busy. I don't know if that's true though. I mean, technically you were recovering from everything and I was stuck grading hundreds of essays and exams, but things just seemed different. What I'm trying to say is, I want to make sure you're alright because I don't think you are.

I'll be staying at Aunt Marge's house over the summer since she's my guardian and while I don't think it's a good idea for you to come out here, I'd like to see you sometime. Aunt Marge is as angry as ever and now I remember why I was so miserable by the end of last summer. The more I live here, the more I feel like I just don't belong here. Is that how you felt living with us all those years? If so, I really am sorry.

I know you probably don't care about it, but the 19th of July is only ten days away. It's the day my parents died, and I really don't want to be alone. Do you think Professor Snape can help so we can meet up somewhere, maybe? Like I said, it's probably not a good idea for you to come here with your's and Aunt Marge's history (you did kind of blow her up, and looking back I'd do the same thing if I could) plus she's still angry about… nevermind, it's just a bad idea overall. If we can meet-up somewhere, I'd be really great.

Anyway, I hope this summer is treating you well and you're able to get some rest being away from the school. If you can't send me back a letter in the muggle post, I'll keep a look out for Hedwig and send my reply with her. Take care, Harry, and I hope to see you soon.

Your Cousin,

Dudley

Harry read through his cousin's letter for what had to be the ninth or tenth time since opening it two days ago after his chemotherapy. Thinking it through, he wasn't sure what reminded him about the anniversary of the Privet Drive attack when he'd gotten home from his treatment, but once he did remember, panic flooded his aching body as Dudley's two letters came back to him. Somehow he knew he'd let Dudley down before he even opened the oldest letter. How could he forget about the anniversary of his Aunt and Uncle's death? They were dead because of him, after all, and now a year removed from it - combined with his newfound relationship with Snape - he had a feeling of regret and grief over their deaths he had not had right after learning of the news.

He was sitting up in his bed watching the light from the sun filter down through the industrial, broken landscape of Cokeworth, trying to find something to say to Dudley to explain why he spent the anniversary of his parents' death alone after explicitly asking not to. Small balled up pieces of parchment littered the floor around his bed, each one filled with a worse sounding excuse than the last. If only he'd actually read the letter sooner, he could blame it on his chemotherapy; there was no way Dudley would have known about his treatment schedule or how difficult they were for him otherwise and therefore, the blame could only be placed on him. Throughout all of his discarded drafts of his letters, the young wizard kept coming back to one single idea, the only one that didn't feel like empty words to him: to invite Dudley to Spinner's End, and Harry was sure Snape would not go for it. But what else could he do to make it up to his cousin when all of his written words sounded so empty?

Deciding the first step was to talk it over with his mentor, the Gryffindor swung his legs over the side of the bed, secretly wishing for the heated floors from Malfoy Manor the second his bare feet hit the cold wooden floor. Harry made his way to the lavatory, knowing it would be free because he'd already heard the distinct creaking of the staircase when Snape had woken up - or at least made his way downstairs - about an hour after Harry had awoken. They had a long two nights from his chemotherapy and he didn't know what time the professor had finally left his room after he'd eventually fallen asleep, however it had to have been well after one o'clock in the morning; meaning he likely had only gotten a couple hours of sleep last night. Today, Harry was feeling more like himself, with only the nerves inside of him causing his roiling stomach, and that would hopefully be solved shortly.

His shower after recovering from chemotherapy always helped reset his mentality about the upcoming month ahead of him. He could almost see the water - with the help of a bit of scrubbing - washing away the layer of grime he felt accumulated on his top layers of skin. That first shower of his chemo-free month acted like his "reset button" and for the next few weeks, at least as long as the tablets cooperated, he could almost forget about repeating the awful weekend next month. What the shower didn't do was warm him up inside. It seemed no matter how hot he set the water, it could never really get rid of the constant cold in his bones. In fact, the only time since before his diagnosis he truly felt warm was when he was sitting with his parents after getting hit by the Killing Curse; a time he tried not to think too much about or he would find himself craving for that feeling again.

Dressed for the day in his favorite Gryffindor jumper and a pair of jeans which had been magically altered to fit his slimmer waist, he made his way out of the lavatory and down the stairs. Out of habit from his days at Privet Drive, the young wizard carefully tiptoed down the wooden staircase trying to avoid the squeaking steps. Every time he came down the stairs, he swore the location of the creaking changed, making it nearly impossible for him to find the culprit step. Obviously it frustrated Snape just as much because the professor tried every way possible to get it to stop - both with muggle and magical means - all to no avail. Why it bothered Snape so much, Harry had no clue, but it was definitely a strange anomaly in their small home and not one he looked at fondly.

As the Gryffindor entered the kitchen, he was immediately put on defense by the stifling thick air radiating around the room. Snape was dressed far more formally than he normally was, at least since they returned to Cokeworth at the beginning of the summer, in a set of black robes - as opposed to his casual muggle attire - and looking more grim than Harry expected to see him going into their calmer three weeks. He was reading the Daily Prophet, just like he did every morning, where their faces were still splattered across the front page once again. Each day Harry was sure it would be the last of their new claimed fame, but each morning he was disappointed.

"Where are you going?" Harry pointedly asked, quickly coming to the conclusion his unofficial guardian had to be visiting somewhere in the wizarding community to be dressed in robes, but he looked too formal to be going someplace like Diagon Alley. And then, for good measure, he added, "What's going on?"

"I'm happy to see you up and moving," Snape announced, motioning for Harry to sit at the place setting where a plate of eggs and yoghurt was waiting for him, along a small cup filled with his morning medications. Harry wasn't surprised by that being Snape's first gesture as his eating habits were constantly on close watch by the man. "And I have a few errands to run this morning," he confirmed once Harry was seated across from him.

"Where?" The young wizard one again asked, intimately familiar with this cat and mouse game they played to get information.

Snape glanced across the table thoughtfully, watching Harry take his morning tablets before starting to pick at his breakfast. Satisfied with the reaction, he replied in an extremely strategic voice, "I have to go and see Lucius."

Harry's breath hitched, causing a rogue piece of egg to attempt to slide down his trachea, instantly causing him to go into a coughing fit.

"Wh-" the Gryffindor tried to say, but was stopped by his continued coughing and Snape's raised hand telling him to wait before speaking. After a minute, he'd managed to catch his breath enough to question, "So you have to go back there?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Snape replied, handing the young wizard a glass of juice from across the table. "Hopefully it won't take too long, Lucius has a previous engagement to attend this afternoon, and then I wanted to stop by your cousin's home to deliver whatever message you have for him."

Harry quickly averted his eyes back down to his plate at the mention of Dudley's letter. He'd wanted to wait to ask Snape about inviting the muggle over - preferably when they weren't talking about Malfoy Manor - but now that the professor had breached the topic, it seemed like the better time.

"Well, y'see-" Harry started, making trails through his plain yoghurt with his spoon before continuing almost too quickly, "- I was hoping… that maybe he could come stay here for a couple of days… maybe just until after my birthday. I did completely forget about his parents death and all, and it-"

"Harry," Snape gratefully interrupted his filibuster, "I can hardly understand you when you speak that quickly. Try again, but slower this time, please."

"Oh," Harry sheepishly answered and then continued, more slowly this time, "well, I was hoping Dudley could stay here with us… to make up for my missing his letter."

A long pause fell over the kitchen table and Harry could see Snape contemplating his request. "First," Snape started with, "you do not owe your cousin anything. Inviting him over should be what you want, not only to ease your guilty conscience." Of course, Harry didn't see it that way, but he let the other wizard continue. "Second, you should keep in mind you're only two days post chemotherapy and were already considered immunocompromised before that. Is it wise asking someone else to come into our home?"

Our home. Those two words left Harry feeling warm inside in a way he hadn't felt since seeing his parents. They reminded him that although he was feeling vulnerable about their situation lately, Snape was not; he was all in on whatever relationship this was and the more Harry heard things like that, the more he could trust not to be hurt. To his point though, Harry had thought about the germ situation.

"Well," the Gryffindor sat up a little taller as he prepared his - at least in his mind - well thought out answer, "I was thinking you could use that sanitizing spell you did last year when I was in hard quarantine? I'm not in quarantine now, and I'm really careful with my hand washing and stuff, so I don't see how it's any different."

The satisfied smile that fell across Snape's face left him both curious, and a little scared. "Yes," Snape confirmed, "I can use that spell, and I'm happy to hear you thinking about it for purposes like this."

He was testing me?! Harry thought to himself, completely astonished. Of course he kept his own health in mind, he had expected them to be past all of this.

"So? Does that mean he can stay with us?" With narrowed black eyes staring back at him, Harry held his head high on confidence. Not wanting to appear weak in his request, he added, "I want to see Dudley, and not just because I completely screwed up. I miss him too."

"Ok," Snape replied with a nod of his head, then looked back down at his paper as if the last several minutes hadn't just happened. "I can't wait for the Prophet to find a new story to report on. I'm tired of seeing my name and face across every single copy."

"You know, you're probably more famous than me now," Harry smirked, going back to finishing whatever he could of his breakfast, knowing it was the one answer the professor wouldn't want to hear. And of course, he wasn't at all surprised when he was greeted with a scone tossed across the table hitting him straight on the top of his lowered head.

~~~~SS~~~~

Harry's request to have his muggle cousin over through his birthday didn't exactly come as a shock to Severus. He'd read the letter from Dudley after Harry had fallen asleep Saturday night and he knew the Gryffindor would feel the need to compensate somehow. He would be lying if he said he wasn't relieved to hear the teen reaching out to someone - he'd take anyone at this point - even if the reason was less than ideal; and Severus didn't believe Harry's half hearted attempt at hiding his guilt.

However, before he could go to pick up the muggle teenager - an act he would prefer to the one he was about to do - he had to go back to Malfoy Manor for the first time since his capture. During his firecall with the Malfoy patriarch yesterday, he'd been cryptically told that while the family would be in London that day, it would not be an ideal time to meet with the other Slytherin. Although Severus would have preferred to meet yesterday afternoon in London - muggle London to be exact, in order to keep his face out of the wizarding media as much as possible - as opposed to this morning for tea at Malfoy Manor, he took what he could. Of course, the last time Severus had stepped foot in the manor had been after he'd killed Voldemort, as he was being escorted out by Kingsley Shacklebolt; surely as a security measure after using an Unforgivable Curse with a dozen witnesses. Kingsley had woken him up - still on the floor of the drawing room - once all of the aurors arrived and started arresting the marked Death Eaters; himself, Draco, and Lucius excluded. There wasn't much he remembered of that final journey from his imprisonment, only the sight of Harry falling to the ground playing over and over again in front of his eyes.

When he walked through the main floo located near the foyer of the Manor, Lucius was nowhere to be seen despite expecting his arrival. Most of the foyer hadn't changed - which would be expected given the fact most ancient family manors were never remodeled to the extent Spinner's End had been - however the new decor did wonders to make the space at least appear different from the previous battlegrounds. The marble floor where the bodies of the fallen Death Eaters had been collected was now covered with what looked to be a new Persian rug, and the windows seemed to let more daylight through than he thought possible, brightening up the space more than he'd ever seen it before. Neither change would come close to erasing the memories of what had happened, and he hoped there were more extensive renovations going on throughout the property; particularly in the Drawing Room where everything ended that awful morning. If he lived here, Severus was positive he would never be able to step foot in that particular room again no matter how much had supposedly changed.

"Severus," the almost too serene voice of Narcissa Malfoy came from behind him. The matriarch was wearing an exquisite set of silver and black robes making his own seem almost inappropriate as they, without a doubt, cost more than Severus's monthly salary from Hogwarts. She reached out her hand, which he promptly shook, and continued, "Lucius wasn't expecting you for another quarter of an hour."

Thinking back to the conversation with Lucius from the previous day, the former spy did not recall stating a specific time of his arrival for this impromptu conversation. Yet as confusing as the comment was to him, he didn't dare call her out on it. Just looking at her, the former spy could tell she was barely holding herself together behind a fake smile and to point out her discrepancy would only cause her more grief.

"I must have been mistaken on my end," he apologized. "If now is an inconvenient time, I can certainly return-"

"No, nonsense," she interrupted him with a wave of her hand, "I'll take you out back to the gardens where tea is being served today."

To that, he didn't respond beyond simply choosing to follow his host through the manor he unfortunately knew all too well.

"The whole place is getting redone," she turned over her shoulder to tell him as they walked through the Hall and passed by the Library, "so please pardon the noise. I had hoped they would work with a bit more urgency, however something always seems to come up and it's taken far longer than any of us expected."

Taking a good look through the corridors, like in the foyer everything appeared brighter - as if the chandeliers held extra magic within them or the mirrors and windows had simply been scrubbed clean and were no longer carrying the weight of the Dark Magic living within the walls - but it was still just as extravagant as it always had been. Walking through the corridors, vaguely listening to the Slytherin witch talking him through exactly what had changed, he paid more attention to her than his surroundings. The last time he'd seen Narcissa, they had lunch in Hogsmeade where the professor assured them there were no hard feelings and thanked the matriarch for her assistance with Harry, specifically during his treatments. Being locked away from the Gryffindor during the times he knew he was needed the most was one of the hardest parts of the whole ordeal, before the final battle at least. He knew Harry had to feel scared and vulnerable, on top of self-conscious and guilt-ridden, but having someone, anyone, there beside him would have made all the difference; he hadn't been alone and for that Severus was eternally grateful.

The Narcissa Malfoy he'd met with back in Hogsmeade was just as prim and proper as he remembered her being before Voldemort took over their lives, but she also had a maternal aura surrounding her that he had never previously noticed. She had been kind, apologetic, and ready to put what they'd been through behind them to move forward. The woman walking him through the stately manor could not be any further from the Hogsmeade Narcissa Malfoy. She played tour guide to him pointing out facts such as the options she had to go through to pick the new chandeliers, the type of wood chosen for the new crown moulding - needing repair due to stray hexes from the morning's battle - or where the new rugs had come from to cover the memories of those who were injured; such as Pettigrew's and Traver's unconscious bodies in the Library where Lupin and himself had taken them down, but, unfortunately, had not killed them. Clearly, in the two months since his lunch with the couple Narcissa had slipped - metaphorically speaking - further away; not too unlike his own observation with Harry. It appeared she was having her own issues dealing with the reality of what had happened and Severus wondered if her husband was aware of the changes, if he was struggling as well, and how Draco was faring in all of this.

"I'll let you both have some privacy," the blonde witch announced, gesturing him out of the beautiful set of glass french doors leading to the back garden. "I'm needed upstairs, though Sinsey will assist you should you require her."

Severus held a straight face when he recognized the Malfoys' house elf's name from his old reality. She was the one who told him and Lucius about their sons with the Dragon Dust at the Christmas Party. He almost smiled at the memory - feeling an odd sense of calm instead of the usual grief when thinking of his son - but he stopped himself at the last second, realizing how inappropriate the action would appear.

"Thank you, Narcissa," he formally answered and made his way out to the gardens.

Having not spent a lot of time out here in the past, Severus couldn't necessarily tell what was new versus what had lived through the Battle of Malfoy Manor. From the information he'd been given, outside of Lucius disabling the wards in the pouring rain, there wasn't much that had happened in the back gardens in terms of dueling. That being said, had the battle occurred anywhere in his home, the whole place would need to be demolished to rid himself of the constant reminders. Life was hard enough without having to live in the place that caused so much pain and anguish.

Lost in his thoughts, Severus only noticed when he transitioned from the floral lined cobblestone path to the open stone platform filled with comfortable plush chairs surrounding a six place dining table already setup for morning tea, when he felt himself pass through the distinct thick air of a privacy ward. The Malfoy patriarch was seated at the far end of the table - giving him a perfect vantage point of all incoming guests - complete with a cup of tea in his hand, leafing through a set of parchment logically from the dozens of folders spread out on the tabletop. Similar to his wife, Lucius was dressed in a lavish set of black robes, reminding Severus so much of the set he wore for Harry's funeral he literally paused his walking to shake his head clear before approaching his former Death Eater colleague.

"I only needed a small moment of your time," Severus greeted the older wizard, "it hardly required all this pomp and circumstance."

"Ah, Severus," the blonde placed his floral tea cup back onto its matching saucer and, with a wave of his hand, the chair to his right pulled out as an invitation for the professor to take a seat. "Please join me, you know how Narcissa is with these things."

Placing the blame on Narcissa for arranging the morning's tea told him that Lucius was well aware of his wife's delicate state of mind. Her natural reaction to the events was to make everything neat and tidy by imagining nothing had changed; not the house, not her family, nor the wizarding world as a whole.

"How is Narcissa?"Severus casually inquired, accepting the offered cup of tea. The aromatic orange scent threw him off as he'd expected something a little more subdued and traditional, nonetheless he took a tentative sip. "Pardon my frankness, but I'm surprised you're still living in the Manor through the… renovations."

"These are hardly renovations," Lucius's grey eyes shifted their focus from Severus's face to the area behind him, making sure they were indeed alone regardless of the wards he'd previously set up. "The truth is-" he took a deep breath, as if what he had to say was not only difficult, but physically painful to him, "she's not well. None of us are really... and yet comparatively, we have much to be thankful for. I'm sure you understand given everything between yourself and Mr Potter."

There was so much in that single statement he had to digest. For one, he disagreed about the Malfoys having more to be thankful for; not that he would say so to the man across from him. Draco certainly had things to work through, and while the Malfoy parents may have fared better in the situation overall, emotional wounds and scars were no less real than the physical ones himself and Draco had to also battle. The most interesting part of Lucius's admission was his acceptance over the idea that his family was still suffering. There were many other traits Severus would use to describe the blonde Slytherin before 'family man' but looking over at him, the professor could not deny the deep concern he saw in the pair of eyes he was looking into. It challenged him to consider his own approach with Harry, who not only had the ramifications from the Manor to deal with, but also his cancer and his magic, on top of adjusting to their new living situation. Suddenly the piece of torn paper from Dr Swanson - left sitting on his bedside table - became more important than just about anything; he needed to find a way to get Harry help through this period of adjustment.

Unsure how to respond, Severus turned to look about the gardens, half of which were in some kind of construction. The fountain, originally located at the front of the hedge maze, had been removed and in its place a new garden was being constructed with a smaller, less magical-looking fountain at the center surrounded by what appeared to be Stargazer Lilies. The hedges to the maze had been cut so short the average person would be able to stand on their tiptoe to see over it and Severus questioned the purpose of that alteration. As far as he knew, nothing had happened within the maze, however the idea that no one could get lost within it - within their property - held its own story.

"What happened to the peacocks?" The professor found himself questioning, almost rudely considering his company and locale.

With a quick check around his shoulder, Lucius somberly responded, "They're with Zolenor, our magical creatures handler. That was non-negotiable as part of the renovations, though I expect they'll return once things calm down."

Severus mindlessly nodded his understanding. As odd as it appeared, it made perfect sense to him. The fowl had been used to send messages to the Order and therefore helped orchestrate the rescue; essentially jump-starting the Battle of Malfoy Manor. Having them strut around the gardens would act as a constant reminder of what happened there.

"And the wine cellars?"

"Completely closed off," Lucius complained, "though that is only temporary, until the Tunnels can be secured… or dismantled if she has her way, which she most likely will. I'm sure you understand, things must be just as challenging in your home."

There it was; the door had been opened, the olive branch offered. It was a chance for him to go through how much they weren't handling their own nightmares. How had this meeting, originally planned to discuss any lingering Death Eater threats, turned into one about their coping, or lack thereof.

"It's been…" Severus struggled to find the right word to describe their situation, but when he did he found himself wanting to talk about all the doubts he had swimming every which way in his head, "...difficult. Harry acts like nothing's happened, and like everything's changed at the same time. He's… withdrawn, not sleeping, hardly eating, and... somehow in all of this, after two months of living together, I've only just managed to notice it."

The pregnant pause that fell over them brought the professor back to his old reality, back to the Christmas party where the two wizards sat in the library drinking firewhiskey and talking about the pressures of Harry's potions treatment. That was the day he learned of the book where he found not only the potion used to confirm Harry held a piece of Voldemort's soul inside of him, but also about the Blood Ritual used to keep Draco more or less alive through the final two months of Voldemort's reign of terror over the Manor. There was so much intertwined between the realities, it was difficult to separate one from the other; ultimately he knew he needed to travel into this world in order for things to end as they did, otherwise Harry would have died in both realms. Now, if only they could get past their latest enemies - their own minds and memories - they could finally live as he'd hoped when he decided to take the red potion in the first place.

"Draco," Lucius started, bringing Severus back to their tea time, "unfortunately, has had similar issues in terms of sleeping and eating. I take it you're receiving help…" The way the blonde trailed off proved he had known the answer before asking, and as a reaction he took a clean sheet of parchment and proceeded to write something upon it. "This is the name of the physician we use. He's an American squib, but don't let that deter you, he has been helpful thus far."

Unsure which was more surprising - the fact that the Malfoys were seeing a therapist, or that this therapist was a squib from the United States - he took the offered parchment and mentally placed it beside the muggle one offered to him from Dr Swanson.

"How is Draco handling it all?" Severus asked, feeling even more connected to the teen after the whole ordeal than before it.

Lupin, Arthur Weasley, and even Tonks thought he shouldn't give the young Slytherin the benefit of the doubt after hearing he'd been the one to capture Harry, but they couldn't begin to understand the complexity they both faced. Severus hadn't been much older than Draco when he had willingly joined the Death Eaters and even older when he turned spy. None of them could appreciate his understanding of the impossible position Draco had been placed into by willingly joining the Death Eaters initially as a spy and then his untimely discovery. If the young blonde hadn't done what he did, he would have been killed as a traitor; a fate he didn't deserve, especially at only sixteen years old. Of course, his defending of Draco would be far easier had Harry also made amends; which had yet to occur and as the days went on, the likelihood of it became less and less.

"Well, if his request - or should I say, demand - not to return to Hogwarts next year is of any indication, I'd say he still has a ways to go," the blonde leaned back in his chair, to which Severus mirrored his more casual posture. "I won't lie, it's one of the reasons I wanted to meet with you here. While I know you've come with your own agenda, I was hoping for a quid pro quo, so to say."

This for that. Generally speaking, making deals with the Malfoys - even in a post-Voldemort life - should always be done with the utmost of caution. Back in March, he was in a position where he needed to put his trust in the Malfoys. Now, he could probably get the information he needed without a trade for whatever the other wizard had in mind, but it wouldn't be nearly as accurate or as timely.

"I have not yet made a decision on your research position," he took a chance at what he thought the offer would be in hopes of narrowing down the field. "Depending on the course of action for Harry's magic, I may decide to stay at Hogwarts at least another year."

"A waste of good talent if you ask me," Lucius complimented and insulted him at the same time, "however the position is yours when you do come finally around to the idea, as we both know you will. Even outside of the significant pay increase, without needing to be placed at the school any longer, you'll grow tired of babysitting and marking essays. Besides, your post at the school may have some value after all."

"We shall see," the professor vaguely answered. "So it's not the research position, what is it you require?"

That was as close to agreeing to the quid pro quo as he was comfortable getting. Understanding his message, Lucius gave him a half smile, "As I've said," the other wizard continued, "Draco has declared his refusal to go back to school next year, claiming his safety as his number one concern."

To Severus, that was a very valid and real concern to have. Draco and Lucius had gone to trial for bearing the Dark Mark and while they'd been acquitted of their crimes, mostly due to the Order's and his own testimony - an affidavit on his part, having refused to physically attend - the teen would still have to face his housemates upon his return for his final year. If Harry were in a similar position, he would not allow the Gryffindor to go back without a solid plan in place to protect him, however given Lucius's tone he had already been planning to account for his son's safety and therefore Draco's excuse was just that: an excuse. Directly following the trial, Draco's room in the professor's quarters had been converted to no longer have access to Severus's and Harry's space, and therefore he did not see the headmaster having an issue with a similar arrangement being made.

"He needs to finish his final year and take his N.E.W.T.s ," the professor advocated for his student, "being as close to finishing as he is, a year of private education would be a complete disservice to him, not to mention if healing is still in his professional sights it will hold him back. How did he do on his end of term exams?"

Lucius gave a proud smirk, "Given how he missed two months of instruction and had less than three weeks to catch up? He did extremely well."

The odd compliment from his father would have gone a long way to Draco, and he hoped Lucius had expressed his pride in his son's performance. After spending time living with the young Slytherin, he learned the positive feedback - while unexpected - did well to motivate the teen.

"I can certainly speak with Albus about ensuring his safety," the professor said the words knowing it wasn't exactly what the other wizard had in mind. "We could set up an arrangement like he had at the end of last year where he's completely sequestered, or perhaps a private room in Slytherin might be a better option to help keep him away from the isolation.

"Please understand, I doubt Harry will be permitted to stay in the Gryffindor tower next year as he won't be a student, and therefore I cannot have Draco staying with me again. The boys were… difficult before all of this, and given what's happened it would only add to their mutual animosity."

"I understand," Lucius reassured him. "It will definitely be a unique year for all involved."

"Comparatively, it may end up being the least chaotic one of their seven years," Severus honestly answered, wishing he could believe it. If nothing else, it served as a good transition to discuss his own agenda for the trip, "Which actually brings me to the purpose of my visit."

Lucius didn't try to hide his surprise at the subject matter, "Don't tell me Albus Dumbledore believes the Dark Lord is not truly gone again. The man refuses to give up."

"Not quite," to give himself time to plan, he took a long sip of the orange tea, "he does, however, believe we should expect a resurgence of the remaining Death Eaters."

The blonde wizard shook his head in disbelief, "Why does that not shock me? Can the headmaster not stand the thought of no longer having any purpose outside of managing a school of amateur witches and wizards?"

"While I agree, I also feel it prudent we do our due diligence if there is an increased risk of a coup d'etat," Severus pointed out. "We discussed this very-"

"I do remember that conversation," Lucius uncharacteristically rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, "and if I remember it correctly, we determined any remaining threats wouldn't have the resources to back a full scale attack."

It was Severus's turn to smirk, "Nowhere was it implied there would be a 'full scale attack'. Without Voldemort -" Severus emphasized the use of the previously forbidden name, to show he was unwilling to let it control him any longer, "- none of the lower leveled followers would be able to take over the muggles, which was their original intent, after all. However, as the only remaining marked Death Eaters from that day who are not either dead or in Azkaban both of our families could very well be targets for retaliation."

The former spy did not miss Lucius's slight glance down at his own Dark Mark hidden beneath the lavish layers of his long robes. As he waited for the Patriarch to make his next move, Severus silently wondered if all of their marks were disappearing at the same rate, or if the magic imbued within the Mark could quantify their loyalty in the end; would the Carrows' or Rodolphus's mark still continue to be branded into their arm years after their master's death while Severus's own had already started to fade significantly?

"Lucius," both wizards were drawn out from their own, independent thoughts by Narcissa's crackling voice, "watch the time, Darling, or you'll be late."

The message must have meant something to the blonde because he immediately started organizing the papers in front of him; an act to appear flustered as they both knew a simple spell would have packed up the lot into the bag stored at his feet.

"I'll reach out to a couple of my associates I know to be still very much in communication with our former colleagues," Lucius cryptically told him. "If there's anything of substance there, they'll shake the tree hard enough to easily identify any… potential future threats."

"And you can trust this associate?"

"As much as any of us can be trusted," the blonde wizard gave another half smile, "but he'll be discreet and it's the best we can ask for."

Satisfied with the outcome of his visit, he bid farewell and was almost back to the cobblestone pathway leading out of the back garden - heading to the floo in the entrance hall - when Lucius called out with a question chilling him more than it should have, "Did Harry receive Draco's post the other week?"

At first, Severus assumed the Gryffindor was being accused of something, but when he gave the question a second thought, it became more apparent that it was Lucius's way of checking on Draco's own claim. Being the second person to ask in as many days, it told a story Severus did not want to hear: Harry had intentionally been ignoring not only his friends and his cousin, but everyone. If Draco had been able to gain the courage to write to Harry - and Severus could only assume the contents of the letter had to do with their imprisonment - something had to change with the Gryffindor.

Acting as if the question did not bother him either way, Severus gave a small frown and answered, "I'm not sure, but I'll check with him when I get home."

Chapter End Notes:
Coming Up Next: Mills Drive

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